


let's not drown ourselves

by wrapper



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rise of the Guardians Fusion, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Attempt at humour, Banter, First Meeting, Global Warming, Lots of Seok Admiration, M/M, Mentions of Minor Character Death - OC, Snow, Winter Wonderland, childhood best friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-03 20:53:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13349322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrapper/pseuds/wrapper
Summary: Ice Guardian Mingyu is chairing his first General Meeting of the Guardians, an annual gathering of the maintainers of the Nature’s Terrains. Think of the United Nations, but way less gets done.Things get a bit awry when the newly appointed, highly inexperienced Ocean Guardian Seokmin has his own ideas of what maintaining a Terrain is about.





	let's not drown ourselves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sownshwa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sownshwa/gifts).



> Hello! Thank you so much for the prompts you gave me! I tried to make this a fusion of 'Fairytale' and 'Winter Wonderland', but somehow the fic became a little political, so if that doesn't float your boat I'm sorry u____u. I'm posting this in two parts because things got a little hectic on my end; the second part will fit with your prompts the most so I'm sorry it'll take a while to get to the Real Juicy Stuff. Nevertheless, I hope you'll enjoy this.
> 
> A big thank you to the mods who organised this and were so kind to me, despite this horribly late entry <3 
> 
> Also big smoochies to ma girl dani for beta-reading and always supporting me <3

When Mingyu was young and could barely stand on his pudgy legs, his father, on one of his escapades from mind-numbing meetings, would scoop Mingyu from his play den and take him around a tour of the palace. As all toddlers are, Mingyu would stare blankly at each portrait and statue they passed by, drooling and yawning as his father rambled about the historical context and importance of the artworks. All Mingyu wanted to do was make pancakes in the play cooking set he got for Christmas. His attempts to escape were often sorely foiled by his weak toddler legs. His father would chuckle fondly, muttering ‘like father, like son’, and carry Mingyu under one arm like a log to continue the tour.  
  
Some artworks were much beloved, and would be accompanied with extensive detail regarding its importance. Others, such as the portrait of a man who looked suspiciously like his father in shorts, a scarf and massive sunglasses in the middle of a beach, only received a curt description and a huff and a tut. The artwork his father was most prone to rambling about was always saved for last. Out of protest at being held back from his kitchen duties, toddler Mingyu would hang his head down and loudly count the number of tiles on the floor. When his father finally got sick of it, he held Mingyu up the way Rafiki did to Simba in the beginning of Lion King I, so he would be forced to confront the painting.  
  
And what a painting it was. A tall, handsome man, most definitely his father, in a deep blue suit with snow crystal detailing running down from the right shoulder, with the snow-capped mountains surrounding the palace as the background. His posture indicated a quiet confidence that was unshakeable, the kind that could only be crafted from years of experience. There was no arrogance outlining the figure; his gentle eyes revealed a compassion hard to come by in anyone who worked with ulterior motives. Three-year-old Mingyu couldn’t articulate these thoughts, but he could feel them. Ever since then, Mingyu would try to run away from his father not to go back to the play den, but to sit for hours in front of that portrait, sometimes with a drawing pad, other times with his favourite blanket.  
  
Mingyu began dreaming of the day he would inherit the role of Ice Guardian from his father.  When Minghao came to live with them on Mingyu’s fifth birthday, the first thing Mingyu did was show him the portrait, and the two boys would spend days making plans for what they would do when Mingyu becomes a Guardian. Some day, Mingyu too, would have his portrait crafted with the exact same blue suit, against the exact same backdrop, hopefully with at least half of the poise his father exuded.

  
  
  
What he didn’t realise was how quickly that day would come, and how much it would cost him. At twenty-five, Mingyu quietly led the funeral procession for his father in a sombre three-day affair; following that, he was sloppily ushered into his new role as Ice Guardian in an additional three-day event. Throughout the week, Minghao never left his side. They had no time to let their hearts breathe. But Mingyu was anything, if not capable. By then, he had outgrown his childish ambition to not just wear the suit, but become someone worthy of wearing such a prestigious outfit. He spent all his teenage years shadowing his father, seizing any kind of advice and guidance he could get, training his mind and his body so that he could handle the role with deft when the day eventually came. By all standards, he was ready.

 

 

  
Icy blonde hair swept back? Check. Crystal buttons fastened and glimmering? Check. Long blue cloak that gleams like sapphires with every movement? Check and check.  
  
Mingyu grins at his reflection on the snow-encrusted full-length mirror. He looks like he could lead an army to victory— something like the male version to the other idol of his life, Elsa. The thought sends him into a fit of giggles, his ears burning. It’s silly of him to even consider that he could ever match to his father, let alone Elsa, the Ice Guardian they both admired immensely. No one could ever match an Ice Guardian—heck, Mingyu would go so far to say, ANY guardian— as daring and influential as her. He attempts to compose himself with great difficulty. His eyes catch the reflection of the giant Elsa poster, next to a printout photo of his father’s portrait (because the palace artists refused to re-create the piece, despite Mingyu’s constant nagging), hanging on the wall above his bed, probably judging him the whole time he so proudly admired himself in the mirror. He quickly clasps his hand together in apology. The last thing he needs today is a curse from both Elsa and his father in heaven for not knowing his place.  
  
The door behind the mirror creaks open. A lean figure enters, stopping abruptly just as Mingyu twirls again so he could admire how beautifully his cloak flowed. Even this early in the morning, Minghao's eyes are vigilant, sparkling bright, his straight eyebrows furrowed into his signature scowl.  
  
“That’s what you made Meemaw slave over, for the past three days?”  
  
Meemaw isn’t really Mingyu’s or even Minghao’s Meemaw blood-relations-wise, but she might as well be, the way her eyes sink into crescents when the two boys visit her in the kitchen, hungry and whining, enticed by the smell of whatever heavenly stew brewing in her trusty pot. Mingyu loves every fibre of her being and would rather burn his Elsa poster and his father’s printout photo than hurt a single hair on her head.  
  
“Shut up! You make it sound like I exploited her or something.”  
  
“I bet you flashed her that toothy grin of yours, you know she can’t resist that,” Minghao says, grabbing a chair from Mingyu’s desk.  
  
“But Meemaw’s the only one who gets me, everyone else just stares like zombies if I even say anything." Mingyu pouts, fiddling with one of the buttons. Or rather, trying to, since Meemaw's stitches are certified fiddle-proof and Mingyu-proof. “Anyway, she’s somewhere in the South now, relaxing. I heard there’s more sun there, good for your bones, I think?"  
  
Minghao relaxes his shoulders, sitting himself down in front of Mingyu. “I’m not mad you know, I’m just worried about her. She can be a bit like you, pushing herself unnecessarily."  
  
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Mingyu grins momentarily before his face softens. "But yeah, I know what you mean. Which makes it even more of a crime if I don’t wear this, after all that, right?”  
  
Minghao scoffs, but Mingyu knows it’s in agreement. He twirls around again and this time he hears the crystals on his cape twinkling to the melody of No Small Wonder. His favourite Christmas carol, the one Meemaw sings every Christmas morning. Mingyu smiles to himself. Meemaw never ceases to amaze him. Even thousands of miles away, she is still with him, cheering him on for his big day. He would do her such a disservice if he wasn’t at least excited for the day to come.  
  
And why wouldn’t he be? Only eleven months as Ice Guardian, and already chairing the Annual General Meeting of the Guardians here in the beautiful mountains of his snow hometown, a prestige normally given to those who have held the position for at least three years. His father always said Mingyu had a natural knack for the role, the way his father’s subjects listened to his suggestions, even when he was still shadowing his father as a junior Ice Guardian. This Christmas was his first as Guardian, and it saw its highest attendance for the annual Winter Wonderland festival in ten years, thanks to Mingyu's tour around the villages to bring in a little festive cheer. Earlier in November, he managed to secure more land for the arctic animals who had lost their habitats and has generally kept the weather from fluctuating too much this winter season. All in all, an impressive set of achievements for someone not even a year into the job. Still, that doesn’t appease the hammering against his chest.  
  
“Ready?” Minghao asks, opening the door, the morning light making his ash-brown hair gleam golden.  
  
Mingyu nods. He takes one last look at his father's portrait before following Minghao out.

The hallway outside his bedroom opens in two directions at right angles to each other, forming a square with two other hallways equally perpendicular to each other. Marble balconies on one side of each of the hallways make for an open arena-like arrangement to a courtyard 3 floors down, where a giant ice sculpture of a polar bear stands in the middle, surrounded by smaller ice carvings of animals, such as the arctic fox and penguins. Contrary to popular belief, Ice Guardians don’t live in palaces made only from ice. Global warming has made that tradition a difficult one to upkeep, and modern palaces are now mostly made following conventional building practices, with hints of ice and snow as decoration to retain character.  
  
As Mingyu quickens his pace, he notices how the frames of the paintings on the walls are gleaming extra bright today, a testament to how hard the servants have been working. He didn’t even have to tell them anything— the whole Palace was buzzing with excitement the whole week in preparation for the meeting and the dinner later tonight. Their dedication touches him, making him warm all over, his pulse quickly overtaking the speed of his pace.  
  
“Hey, Minghao, wait up, I can’t walk as fast with this cloak on!” Mingyu shouts, trying his best not to trip over the silky blue cloth. Even without the cloak, Mingyu sometimes has to exert himself a little to catch up with Minghao’s relentless pace.  
  
“Oh man, who’s made the ice crystals melt in the corridor?” Minghao exclaims from the end of the corridor.  
  
The smell hits Mingyu first, a briny flavour with a hint of sulphur, reminiscent of the smoked mackerel he had for breakfast. When he catches up, Minghao is on his knees examining the damage. The rough ice pathway in the middle of the corridor remains mostly intact, but the finer crystals on either side— the crystals the Royal Crafters painstakingly carved all week— have all, save a few, melted into puddles. Bits of seaweed and kelp trail along the entire length of the corridor, disappearing into a corner. Upon closer examination, some of the larger rock crystals, intended to resemble pebbles, have bits chipped off, as if someone had fallen several times while walking.  
  
“Looks like we just missed the Ocean Guardian return from his swim,” Minghao sighs, pulling himself up, “I’ll need to get this sorted, go ahead, I’ll slip in the meeting later.”  
  
“But which way do I go?” Mingyu’s voice comes out more high-pitched than he intended.  
  
Minghao raises his eyebrow and gives him a look, an _It’s-like-you-don’t-live-here-and-haven’t-been-attending-these-meetings-since-we-were-fifteen_ kind of look.  
  
“I’m just nervous, okay!” Mingyu huffs, pulling his cloak tighter around him. The merry tinkling of No Small Wonder echoes in the hallway, lingering in the air like toffee on the fingers of toddlers. Images of all the other Guardians laughing at his cloak suddenly run through his head, giving him second thoughts about wearing it to the meeting. He makes to undo the strap when Minghao stops him with one hand.  
  
“Hey, Meemaw put her heart and soul into making this for you. At least wear it to the meeting and hang it up on the cloak stand.” He grabs Mingyu’s shoulders gently. “You’re gonna be fine, Mingyu, you’ve talked in front of these guys multiple times before without a hitch. They wouldn’t have voted to have the meeting here if they didn’t think you were capable of chairing it.”  
  
Mingyu feels his heart rate easing down just from those words. As much as he would like to present himself as someone unapologetically confident, there are times when he is anything but, and chairing a room full of experienced Guardians undoubtedly falls into one of those times. Overcome with gratitude, he flings his arms around Minghao’s shoulders and pulls him into a hug.  
  
“I really couldn’t have done any of this without you, you know,” Mingyu murmurs into Minghao’s white blazer.  
  
“Of course,” Minghao replies, patting Mingyu’s head. He lets Mingyu babble some more, before peeling himself off of him.  
  
“Now listen to me, Kim Mingyu,” He says, pinching Mingyu’s cheeks, “Go to that meeting, show everyone exactly the reason why you’re the youngest Guardian to host an Annual Meeting and make your dad, Elsa, Meemaw and me proud.”

 

  
  
  
“Guardian Jihoon, please raise your placard before you want to speak, and, please, for the love of nature, do not”— Jihoon glares at Mingyu before raising his arm — “throw the placard at other Guardians,” Mingyu finishes defeatedly as the white plastic bearing 'Jihoon - Desert Guardian' in black calligraphy somersaults across the room towards Soonyoung. The purple-haired Sky Guardian widens his eyes and ducks, sticking his tongue out at Jihoon. Wonwoo sitting next to Soonyoung falls victim instead, his glasses knocked off. Grumbling, he abandons his book on rivers and starts a one-blind-man search party in the opposite direction of his glasses’ trajectory.  
  
Mingyu slumps against his chair at the head of the table and cradles his head in his hands. It had been going so well at first— at least, relative to the war zone in front of him now. He’d come in, said his greetings, ignored Jihoon’s expected mocking comment about his melodious cloak, honoured Seungkwan as First Speaker for arguing that Jihoon had no right to say anything if the best thing deserts can offer is singing dunes, and finally opened the session with no further interruption. They were all familiar faces, save for Jeonghan’s new junior, Chan, who seemed pretty quiet, and Mingyu felt his nerves calm even without Minghao in the room.  
  
Nearly everyone was present: Jihoon; Soonyoung; Wonwoo, the River Guardian; Junhui, the Forest Guardian, and Jeonghan, the Grassland Guardian, along with his junior. Both Seungcheol, the Mountain Guardian, and Jisoo, the Cloud Guardian, brought their juniors as well, Seungkwan and Hansol respectively.  Only the Ocean Guardian, someone called Seokmin, was missing. Not that Mingyu was disappointed or anything. Just a little annoyed that, on top of having ruined his subjects’ expert ice craftsmanship, this new Ocean Guardian has also decided not to make an appearance with no excuses, nothing. No one really knows what he looks like either since he was only appointed a month ago following the previous Guardian’s retirement. He’s somewhere in the palace at least, probably freezing his ass off. Mingyu sent one of the servant boys to look for someone 'soaking wet, probably with seaweed and barnacles all over, and smelling so fishy you might gag' (“I think you’re describing Davy Jones of Pirates of the Caribbean fame, your Guardianness.” “Just find him and bring him here.”), and focused his attention back to the meeting.  
  
The trouble started when they moved to the penultimate item on the agenda, a subject Mingyu should’ve known would be touchy for everyone, and therefore, should’ve prepared for the way one prepares for war.  
  
Junhui shot the first canon: “Motion to ban Jihoon from obtaining more land, for the sake of this planet’s deteriorating health.”  
  
“It’s not my fault that you’re terrible at keeping your rainforests in check, Junhui,” Jihoon protested. “Besides, why are you complaining, they say Antarctica's green now.”  
  
“Moss isn’t the same as trees, Jihoon, which is what forests are made of. Have you never seen one? Oh wait, you’re from the desert, _my bad_ , I guess all green is the same to you, huh?"    
  
“The River Guardian believes it has enough rivers,” Wonwoo quipped, waving his placard, "but would happily accept any other rivers, should another Guardian be willing to giv—"  
  
“You poor earth souls, fighting over land like little children."  
  
“Please, Guardians, raise your Placards if you would like to contrib—"  
  
“Shut up, Soonyoung, go back to space if you’ve got nothing better to say.”  
  
“And miss all this drama?” Soonyoung chuckled, "Not for all the stars in the galaxy, my dear Desert Guardian. It’s why Jisoo and I come to these things every year, even if it’s such a hassle to fly down to Earth. Besides, when else can I see your beautiful, sand-papered face?"  
  
And that is how a single Placard aimed at a Sky Guardian brought a River Guardian to his knees on the floor, crawling further and further away from his glasses. Everyone else is still absorbed in the land debate, except for Hansol and Jeonghan, who have taken the liberty to nap amidst the fight. Mingyu has now seen what life without Minghao looks like and vows to always be within ten feet of him.  
  
“Could all Guardians please settle down and go back to their seats?” Mingyu claps his hands several times to get their attention. “Guardian Wonwoo, your glasses are in the opposite direction.”  
  
Wonwoo, grateful for the help, shoots him a thumbs up and begins crawling towards the windows.  
  
“If you’re all going against me,” Jihoon interrupts, standing up, “Why aren’t you going against Jeonghan as well? His lands are about as dry as mine AND they’re taking over Antarctica."  
  
The Guardian in question stirs, languidly raising his head from the table. Nobody wants to look at Jeonghan, not even Seungkwan, who starts inching away from his older brother.  
  
“Yes, did someone my name?” Jeonghan croaks, fluttering his sleepy eyes awake. He purses his lips in a hard line and tilts his head to one side, letting the light highlight his sharp cheekbones.  
  
Seungcheol nearly jumps out of his chair and gives Jihoon a frantic look, as if trying to send an urgent telepathic message to him.  
  
_You fool, take that back! He has lions and cheetahs, they’re gonna go after your tiny ass._ _  
_ _  
_ _So what? I’ve got Australian scorpions and rattlesnakes, you do NOT want to mess with those guys. And my ass isn’t tiny!_ _  
_  
At least, this is how Mingyu imagines their conversation must’ve gone in their heads. In any case, Jihoon backs down after another sharp look from Seungcheol and scans the room to find a different scapegoat to deflect the argument. His eyes land on the empty chair in front of him. Mingyu makes a pact with himself to never get on Jihoon’s bad side, ever, for as long as he lives.  
  
“I don’t know why we’re all arguing us, land folks,” Jihoon starts, a glint in his eye. He ignores Soonyoung’s incredulous snort and continues, “when the real enemy here are the water guardians. Not you, Wonwoo, I’m talking about the Ocean Guardian."  
  
"So I managed to get a hold of a computer.” Jihoon sits down (to Mingyu’s immense relief) and starts waving his arms around, “And I search in this search engine called Google, water versus land on earth, and I click enter, right, and the result comes out on the screen and what does it say? 68. 68%! For ONE Guardian. That means the 32% that’s land has to be divided among the five of us. I know, Junhui, I was shocked, technology is pretty amazing, isn’t it? But anyway, 68%! I say, we all work together to take some of that, and reclaim it as land, so it’s at LEAST even.”  
  
“Hmm, that does make sense,” Wonwoo says, after finally having found his glasses near his chair. Several of the other land Guardians nod in agreement, not wanting to seem like they can’t follow a logical argument with statistics.  
  
“Well, Jihoon, you tried that didn’t you?” Seungcheol wearily replies, “Didn’t you try and dump sand in the ocean to make more land for yourself?”  
  
For the first time since the meeting started, Jihoon turns red and shrinks in his chair. “That was an experiment!” He shouts, “we managed to make some land, but they… well it’s sand, so… anyway Mingyu, aren’t you supposed to be chairing this thing?”  
  
Mingyu jumps, shocked at having the baton finally handed to him. He clears his throat and reads the agenda, “Right, yes, so land disputes are mostly settled, yes? Thank you to all the Guardians who have contributed, we will now proceed to the last item on the agenda, that of Climate Change, led by the Sky Guardian. Could Guardian Soonyoung please rise and make his statement?”  
  
Just as Soonyoung gets up from his chair, a loud knock sounds at the door. Mingyu is almost ready to scold whoever is delaying this meeting any longer, when Minghao’s face pops out, a sheepish look on his elven features.  
  
“Hello Guardians, sorry to interrupt— Oh hi there, nice to see you finally on the table here, Chan.” He does a little wave at the three junior Guardians whose arms are about to fall off from trying to grab his attention. He slinks into the room, careful to keep the door only slightly open, and takes Mingyu to the side.  
  
“I’ve found the Ocean Guardian loitering around the fountain outside, I’ll tell you the details later,” Minghao whispers quickly when Mingyu furrows his eyebrows, “He’s not… in the most ideal outfit, but I’ll bring in a bathrobe. I’m afraid he’s gonna catch a cold later, so could you seat him next to the heaters?”

“Guardian Seokmin,” Minghao says in a louder but still gentle voice, turning towards the door, "you can come in now.”

The Ocean Guardian shuffles in, the tails of his eyes crinkling like a fan with an apologetic smile that displays two sets of brilliantly white teeth. Seokmin is everything Mingyu expected of an Ocean Guardian, and at the same time, nothing he expected of them at all. He’s certainly built like one: tall and solid, with strong shoulders sloping to arms well toned from what Mingyu assumes is regular swimming. The navy blue bodysuit he’s wearing is dripping wet, forming puddles around his feet, just as Mingyu predicted. What Mingyu failed to realise is how tight the wet bodysuit would hug the Guardian’s figure, revealing the shape of his sculpted thighs.There isn’t a strand of seaweed anywhere about him, nor any barnacles stuck on his skin; there’s only brown hair falling in a wet limp on his face and beautiful tanned skin gleaming golden in the dusky light. But what strikes Mingyu the most is how warm, how bright his face is, as if he swallowed the sun and it is now shining from within— this is a face whose heart and soul is entwined with the ocean, knowing nothing of rough seas and stormy nights.  
  
“Hello everyone,” Seokmin chirps, his calloused hand coming up to his shoulder to do a quick wave, "sorry I'm late, I got lost and fell a couple of times. It’s a pretty big palace.”  
  
Mingyu gulps, hoping to hydrate his suddenly parched throat, and puts on his best, modulated voice. “Please, Guardian Seokmin, take a seat next to Guardian Jeonghan over there. Chan, would you mind swapping seats with Guardian Seokmin, so he can be next to the heaters? Minghao will return shortly with a bathrobe for you and a hot water bottle."  
  
Seokmin gratefully bows to Mingyu, and scurries to his seat, rocking his head up and down at each Guardian. Jeonghan and Hansol have woken at this point, and they join the other nine curious pairs of eyes following the Ocean Guardian’s route to his chair. Mingyu is slightly relieved he’s not the only one gawking at Seokmin, though guilt pinches his stomach when he sees how flustered Seokmin looks.  
  
“Aren’t you… cold?” Jeonghan asks, carefully. “I can switch with you if you want, the heat’s making me too sleepy.”  
  
Jihoon grunts in disbelief. Jisoo, sitting opposite to Jeonghan, nods in agreement like a worried mother.  
  
“Oh don’t worry about me, please, I hadn’t noticed the cold until you mentioned it just now,” Seokmin chuckles nervously, blowing into his hands, “I hope I haven’t interrupted anything or missed too much.”  
  
“Oh, not at all, we’ve just been cooped in this box since 9am, no big deal,” Jihoon snaps.  
  
Seungcheol elbows him, jerking his head to Seokmin’s quickly reddening face. Even Jisoo looks disappointingly at Jihoon. Seungcheol smiles in apology and says, “I’m sorry about him, Guardian Seokmin, there’s a reason why cacti only live in the desert. Mingyu, do you want to ask Guardian Seokmin if he’s got anything he wants to say before we move on?”  
  
Soonyoung opens his mouth to protest but clams up quickly after a sharp look from Jisoo. The Cloud Guardian rarely gets angry at anyone, and for him to glare at anyone not once, but twice in a day is enough to scare the more argumentative Guardians.  
  
Mingyu clears his throat, “Yes, Guardian Seokmin, is there anything you would like to talk about before we move on to our last topic on Climate Change?”  
  
“Um, yes, actually, if that’s okay. I think it goes under ‘Land’? I’ve got a speech written somewhere.”  
  
Mingyu internally groans but tries to maintain a diplomatic smile. He gestures for Soonyoung to sit down. Soonyoung shrugs, returning to his seat with an expression not unlike a shark having caught a whiff of blood.  
  
“Very well, the floor is yours,” Mingyu responds, trying not sound grave.  
  
Seokmin stands up and digs into his body suit’s pocket. He takes out pieces of soggy paper, black ink running to a spectrum of colours. “Oh right, I went for a swim. Um, well, I guess, I’ll go ahead anyway."  
  
He wrings his hands together, the tips of his fingers already a dusky colour. Mingyu is concerned with how long it’s taking Minghao to bring the hot water bottle and bathrobe, not entirely because he’s having a hard time focusing his eyes on the Ocean Guardian’s face. He’s not about to let anyone get sick under his watch.  
  
“So, here’s the thing. I went out for a swim to the Pacific Ocean earlier this week, and I think my oceans are getting warmer. I’m really concerned because some of the fishes and corals are dying out faster than usual. So, actually, Ice Guardian, I was wondering if I could ask you to, um, melt some of your ice, so that my oceans can get a little cooler. I had a look around the area before I came in, and well, I don’t mean to sound judgmental, but all that ice isn’t doing very much, is it?” Seokmin winces as he says this, most likely after glancing at Mingyu’s increasingly questioning expression. “So, um, yeah, I’d really like to cool the ocean for my fish, thanks.”  
  
Nothing gets Guardians as worked up quite like a land dispute, and the room erupts, opening up wounds sutured only a few minutes ago. Accusations and statistics and logic fly across the room in a mix of exasperated and desperate tones. Wide-eyed in fear, Seokmin quickly sinks back to his chair, unsure of what he said to cause this.  
  
Mingyu bangs his gavel once, twice, shouting “ _Quiet!_ ". The room immediately falls silent. He wishes he used the instrument earlier; his current headache would have been far more bearable. But right now, that’s the least of his worries.  
  
“You want me to give you more ocean.”  
  
“Yeah!” Seokmin says, looking up, nodding like a puppy.  
  
“You own 68% of the Earth, and yet, you want, more ocean.”  
  
“Yeah,” Seokmin replies less cheerfully, not missing the sarcasm in Mingyu’s tone.  
  
A hundred unsavoury comebacks run through Mingyu’s head but then remembers his father and Elsa are watching in heaven, and he opts to take a deep breath first.  
  
“Guardian Seokmin, I don’t believe you have any standing to request that. First of all, you’ve made a mess of the West Hallway, melting the ice crystals the Palace Crafters have painstakingly made for at least two weeks. Then you saunter in, nearly six hours late, in a WET bodysuit, thus, ruining the carpet, and now you want,” Mingyu scoffs, placing both hands on his chest, "me to give you my hard earned land?” His father would have disapproved of how he’s handling the situation, but Mingyu can’t help but raise his voice; anyone would react similarly if someone threatened to take the things they held dear.  
  
“I’m really not asking for much, I promise.” Somehow, Mingyu’s outburst has made Seokmin a little sturdier on his feet. His eyes, a beautifully warm brown colour, are calm, steady and unwavering. “Just a bit to help out. I was planning to ask the Cloud Guardian and Sky Guardian if they’d be willing to—"  
  
“Absolutely not,” Mingyu cuts off before anyone else could say anything.  
  
“Oh, what?”  
  
“I said, no.”  
  
Jisoo looks like he wants to say something, but sits back down after catching the look in Mingyu’s eye. Years of diplomacy lessons fly out of the window, and Mingyu falls back on first principles: childish stubbornness. He hates being like this, but he hates it even more that this Seokmin would even think that he’d give up his beloved ice lands that easily.  
  
Seokmin’s face falls, his eyes beginning to water. “But… my fish…”  
  
“I’m sorry I can’t help you further. Please sit down, Guardian Seokmin. Would the Sky and Cloud Guardians like to commen—”  
  
“Can’t we at least discuss this? I mean, isn’t this what this forum is for?”  
  
“Guardian Seokmin, please sit down. If you wish to speak, you may raise your placard.”  
  
“Ocean Guardian wants to speak,” Seokmin shouts, raising his placard. His eyes fixate on Mingyu, determined, daring him to look away and back down.  
  
Mingyu doesn’t understand why his ears suddenly feel really hot, or why his knees feel weak.“I—  yes, go ahead.”  
  
“Okay, thank you Guardian Mingyu.” Seokmin’s shoulders relax, and the hard edge in his voice softens, “I’m gonna first say sorry about the mess I’ve made this morning. I’m really embarrassed that I’ve already gotten on the wrong footing with you when I’m supposed to be here to make it better for my Terrain.” Mingyu catches Jisoo’s and Jeonghan’s accusing looks and smacks his dry lips. He almost understands how Jihoon must feel like when the whole table turns against him.  
  
"I’ll try my best to make it up to you, so please, please don’t take what I did this morning into consideration for what I’m about to say.” Seokmin places one hand on his chest and pats the wetsuit covering his left pectoral muscle (Where is Minghao with that bathrobe?), breathing through his nose, as if preparing for a swim.  
  
“I’m going to explain to you why I think I need this land, and what’s in it for you.” He averts his beautiful brown eyes from Mingyu to look at the other Guardians in the room. "I have a lot of fish to take care of, and not just fish but many other sea creatures too, like the guys over at the Mariana Trenches, and the corals and the seaweed, everything. They’re all suffering because the water is just too warm. Not to mention, huge portions of the sea are just, covered in muck, oil, and rubbish, it’s disgusting.”  
  
Minghao had slipped in quietly just as Seokmin started his speech, placing the bathrobe, two hot water bottles and several blankets on a chair behind him. He then parked himself at the back of the room. When Seokmin doesn’t notice, Mingyu motions for the Guardian to hold his speech, pointing behind him. Taken aback, Seokmin twists backward and clumsily wraps the bathrobe around him, stuffing the hot water bottles inside. Colour rushes to Seokmin’s face, though he looks as if the interruption had thrown a wrench to his gears. Jihoon looks on curiously, exchanging glances with Jeonghan, who hums like he found a matching puzzle piece.  
  
Happy that Seokmin’s fingers are turning a healthy pink, Mingyu nods for Seokmin to continue.  
  
“So, as I was saying, my proposal is that—" Minghao rushes to cover Seokmin’s shoulders with blankets, after finally deciphering what Mingyu’s bird flap move meant, and signals the completion of the job with a thumbs up that Mingyu copies, “—oh, thank you Minghao— where was I? Oh yes, my proposal is that you let a couple of your glaciers melt, especially in the warmer parts of the ocean, and hopefully that will lower the water temperature. I was gonna ask Guardian Jisoo as well if he could make more clouds to shade the oceans from the sun and hopefully, that could make things bit cooler too?  I haven’t thought through the logistics of that yet.”  
  
Jisoo’s face twists like the time his little brother Hansol made him a glass of lemonade with eight lemons (“Lemonade needs eight lemons, right, that’s why it’s called lemonade, see?”). Soonyoung’s reaction is exactly like the time Jisoo told him about Hansol’s lemonade, though this time, he’s actually trying to control himself from snorting when he catches Mingyu squinting at him.  
  
"I mean, this is gonna benefit everyone!” Seokmin continues without noticing Soonyoung’s fit, much to Mingyu’s relief, "You all eat fish, don’t you? I mean we’re Guardians, so we don’t have to eat, but we all enjoy a bit of sashimi now and then, don’t we? Well, if I let the waters get any warmer, soon there won't be any fish for anyone to eat!"  
  
“So please, Mingyu.” Seokmin pleads, turning his gaze back to Mingyu just as the latter is making exasperated faces at Soonyoung, Jihoon, and Wonwoo. The River Guardian only joined the who-can-piss-themselves-laughing-first party after Soonyoung took away his book on rivers, and whispered the situation to him.  
  
“It’s Ice Guardian’,” Mingyu blurts, trying to compose himself.  
  
“Okay, Ice Guardian,” The correction doesn’t faze Seokmin, but he does flex his jaw. “Please consider this on its own merit, and forget what I did this morning."  
  
Seokmin only now notices the party of giggles (now with Junhui) and turns beetroot, looking ready for the ground to swallow him whole. Mingyu begs Seungcheol to shut the quartet up since none of them would take his words as chair seriously. The four Guardians are hurriedly ushered out of the room by Minghao under Seungcheol’s instruction.  
  
With the stress of the four giggling Guardians out of the way, Mingyu returns his attention back to Seokmin. The truth is, if Mingyu had the means to agree to the proposal, he would do so without hesitation. Mingyu is the type of person who generally finds it difficult to say no to people, but he’s especially prone to agreeing when the requesting party has gathered every bit of courage they had, has put everything on the line, just to approach him. It can’t have been easy for Seokmin to stand and defend his stance like that. Mingyu admires Seokmin’s resilience, in spite of his nerves. Becoming a Guardian at a young age is stressful enough, let alone assuming the position with little experience of how scathing the meetings can be (Mingyu doesn’t remember Seokmin joining any of the previous meetings as a junior). How great would it be if Mingyu had an abundance of ice to melt at any given moment.  
  
As much as he can’t bear the thought of disappointing Seokmin, he still has his Terrain to think about, the people and creatures living here, and the devastating impact to the planet if any more glaciers are to melt. Seokmin is still pretty naive, and would probably dismiss any other arguments Mingyu would make. Mingyu looks down to his suit jacket, tracing with his eyes the intricate crystal patterns curving downwards to his left breast pocket. What would his father do? Mingyu thinks back to the painting tours his father took him on, how Mingyu would whine about wanting to go back to the play den, stubbornly hollering “One Mississippi tile, TWO Mississippi tile, THREE Mississippi tile” to drown out his father’s dry lectures. Until his father lifted him up.  
  
“Do you want to see?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Winter Wonderland.”  
  
Seokmin knits his eyebrows together, shaking his head. “I…don’t understand.”  
  
“I’m asking if you want to stay the night here, and tomorrow we can tour around the area, visit some of my favourite places, and go to Winter Wonderland, the annual festival the villagers put on every winter. It’s really great fun!"  
  
Mingyu watches in amusement as the colour rushes to Seokmin’s face, his eyes ballooning like goldfish, blinking rapidly. An unfamiliar warm feeling settles in Mingyu’s chest and grows butterflies in his stomach.  
  
Seokmin can’t seem to stop staring at the paper in front of him, fiddling with the corner. “Wait, is this a date?"  
  
Now it’s Mingyu’s turn to feel the blood surging upwards to his face, as it dawns on him how his choice of words could be interpreted. Never has he felt so glad that two out of three of the rowdiest Guardians are not present to witness his blunder. One smirking Jeonghan, he can handle.  
  
“No! Wait, no I mean, I don’t mean to sound so rude, it’s not you, it’s just.” Breathe in, breathe out, erase Jeonghan from your mind. "If you so badly think that my Terrain is as lifeless as you said, then I want to prove to you exactly why I disagree, by showing you everything I love about this place. Then, maybe you can understand why I’m so reluctant to give my lands away.”  
  
Some of the colour has faded from Seokmin’s face, but he still looks skeptical, one arm up like he’s trying to ward off a wild animal.  
  
“If, by the end of the tour, you still want to go ahead with the proposal, then…” Mingyu trails off, glancing at Minghao, “well, we can discuss it a bit more, if that happens. What do you think? Sound fair?"  
  
Seokmin visibly relaxes, lowering his arm and straightening his back. His face brightens as the implications of Mingyu’s plan dawns on him, though Mingyu notes a hint of disappointment in the way his lips hesitate to curve.  
  
“Okay.” He nods, smiling to his eyes.

 

  
  
  
It’s dim when Mingyu finally gets there, panting and sneezing. Dust clings to the carved wooden frame like dew on leaves; his nose itches when he gets too close to the painting, examining details to see whether they match the image he remembers of the painting. For an artwork so beloved, the portrait of Mingyu’s father in a crystal-embroidered suit is located in a corner of the palace that is so out of reach, the servants only clean the area when they're expecting large parties of guests to stay for at least a week. After climbing five flights of stairs and losing himself in a maze of similar looking corridors, Mingyu wonders how he and Minghao had the energy and time to visit the painting all through adolescence, and just before his father passed away. Maybe it was the isolation they were after. Here, they could dream and plan without the worry of reality shackling them down. Mingyu chuckles at the naivety of his adolescent thoughts. Give and take. That’s all there is in this world.  
  
“Not coming to dinner?”  
  
Mingyu starts at the voice but doesn’t look for where it came from. Minghao emerges from the peripherals of Mingyu’s vision, taking the spot next to him, hands behind his back as if waiting for Mingyu to indulge him.  
  
“I can never tell when you’re following me,” Mingyu comments.  
  
“Wouldn’t make for a good adviser if I didn’t know how to walk quietly, now."  
  
They say nothing for a couple of minutes, absorbing this painting that had been something like a childhood guardian angel.  
  
“Any reason why we’re standing in this dark and freezing hallway instead of sitting comfortably downstairs in a well-lit room?"  
  
Mingyu expects nothing less of Minghao, cutting a path straight through the bushes. He wishes he could be as straightforward as that. The problem is, most of the time, what he really wants to say is obfuscated by a million other thoughts.  
  
“You know, it’s nice that Guardians stop ageing the moment they officially inaugurate. I’m twenty-five for the rest of my life! Until death randomly afflicts me and I rapidly age sixty years in less than a day.”  
  
“Staving off death for a few years doesn’t seem so bad.”  
  
“It isn’t even death, it’s just... the signs of death, the wrinkles, the raspy voice, the slowness. I’m glad my memory of Father still looks exactly like this painting here. Strong, dependable. I wonder what it would have been like, if I saw Father in his old age, like Meemaw.”  
  
“Meemaw isn’t doing bad, for her age. She made you that cloak, didn’t she?”  
  
“No, I agree, but I do worry about her when I don’t see her. Meanwhile, I can’t imagine Father ever needing my help; I’m the one who needs his help. In fact, I still do."  
  
Minghao doesn’t say anything, a silence well-versed in conversation.  
  
“Do you think Father would’ve been happy with the way I handled things back there?”  
  
“What, at the meeting? You know you can’t take Jihoon and Soonyoung’s rowdiness as indicators for how badly something has gone. One of these days, they’ll start World War III over something stupid, like… yoghurt— I don’t know!” Minghao defends when Mingyu giggles at his conjecture. "I think you did perfectly fine, given everything."  
  
“You’re my adviser and best friend, you’re supposed to say these things to me.”  
  
“Then, why bother asking?”  
  
“I wasn’t talking about those two, I’ve been in enough meetings.” Mingyu pauses, lowering his voice. “I’m talking about Guardian Seokmin.”  
  
Minghao hums, trying to give weight to the thought. “How else could you have handled it?”  
  
“I don’t know, I’m just...really frustrated at him, and how stubborn he is. With anyone else, I would’ve just made my borders clear. With him it’s like… he’s just starting out you know, he was so nervous, it’ll be like taking candy from a baby and that’s just not fair, right...” Mingyu trails off, turning his head to face Minghao. “What if after I show him everything, he still wants to take some of my lands?"  
  
“Then say no. No one can force you to do anything, let alone force you into doing something that you have very valid reasons _not_ to do. I’m sure you’ve got Jihoon on your side for this."  
  
“I can’t just do that!” Mingyu sighs, finding another spot on the painting to fixate on. He thinks about how quickly Seokmin’s eyes began to water the moment Mingyu refused, how the downturn of his lips made Mingyu’s gut feel tight. “I mean, I promised I’d give it thought if he was still unconvinced, but I also can’t… do what he wants of me."  
  
Minghao cocks his head to one side, regarding Mingyu like there’s a link he hasn’t quite grasped. “You’re not generally one to ruminate over these things, Mingyu.”  
  
“I know! It’s just...” _It’s just I can’t seem to make any kind of proper decision if he’s, well, in the room, looking at me with those paralysingly beautiful brown eyes, waiting for me to answer._ How is he supposed to tell Minghao that? Even Mingyu thinks the excuse sounds stupid. Part of the reason why he got so terribly lost getting to a place he used to go nearly every month, was because every time he’d make a turn to a hallway, Seokmin’s puppy face would suddenly pop in his mind. Is he stupid for possibly harbouring something for someone he’s only just met? Maybe. Then again, he fell in love with Elsa the moment she transformed into a dazzling Ice Queen, and he only knew her for, like, less than an hour.  
  
“I can’t tell you exactly why you’re feeling like this,” Minghao says, patting Mingyu’s shoulder, with a twinkle in his eye that might suggest otherwise. “But what I can tell you is that I have faith that you’ll figure things out, and that if we don’t go down to dinner soon, they’ll be sending a search party out for us, and you know how much the servants hate coming up here. I, sometimes hate coming up here.”  
  
“Wait, what you do?” Mingyu balks at the new information, letting Minghao walk ahead of him.  
  
“Well, it’s so difficult to get to." Minghao turns back when he realises Mingyu is no longer walking beside him. “You can’t tell me that this corner of the palace isn’t a pain to get to.”  
  
Mingyu thinks about how his back is slightly cooler than the rest of his body from the sweat he worked up. “I guess you’re right. Still, why didn’t you say anything?”  
  
“It’s your favourite painting isn’t it?” Minghao calls, continuing his way down the corridor.  
  
Silence accompanies their walk back, the kind of silence you settle into after a satisfactory movie ending. When they enter the dining room, everyone has settled in, chatting amiably among themselves. They sit in order of seniority, with Seungcheol near the head of the table, and Chan towards the end. The three junior Guardians spot Minghao and begin making wild hand signals to get his attention. Minghao gives Mingyu one last knowing smile, before running to join the juniors. The rest stop for a moment to smile and acknowledge Mingyu’s entrance as he takes his seat at the head of the table. Everyone else, that is, except Seokmin, who seems to have assimilated with the juniors and is thoroughly engrossed by Seungkwan’s theatrical performance of the time Seungcheol made him mountain climb. Mingyu can’t help but feel a pang of frustration at the three layers of Guardians between him and Seokmin, though he’s not sure if he’s mistaking the sentiment for something else when he marvels at how well the royal blue suit jackets around Seokmin’s broad shoulders.  
  
Seokmin, of course, had not realised he had to dress up for dinner, nor that there was a dinner to attend in the first place. Mingyu was only too happy to put him under the care of the palace tailors, with special instructions to do their best work. If he tilts his neck to one side, he can see the green detailing on the button line gleam emerald. The palace tailors are something else, Mingyu thinks.  
  
“You’re being more fidgety than usual, Mingyu.”  
  
“What?” Mingyu says absentmindedly. Jeonghan is watching him with a small smirk. He eyes Mingyu’s elbow, which, if Mingyu leaned onto the table any further, would've been bathed in soup. Mingyu shuffles back to his chair and drops his hands on his lap, looking everywhere but Jeonghan’s knowing gaze.  
  
“If you’re not gonna eat that soup, give it here,” Jihoon interjects, slurping the last drop of his soup with a satisfied smile.  
  
“You don’t even need to eat, Jihoon, none of us do,” Seungcheol says, pushing his bowl of soup to one side.  
  
“Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy it.” Jihoon dabs his mouth with a napkin. “Really rich coming from you though, seeing as how you’re asleep every time I’m over. Now hand me over that soup, Snow boy.”  
  
Mingyu hadn’t planned on giving his soup away, but Seungcheol blocks Jihoon's path with one arm anyway. "No, don't, you might as well bin the whole thing. Give it to the kids instead, they're still growing.”  
  
Seungcheol tries to wave Seungkwan over, but catches Hansol’s attention instead, who nearly crashes into Seungcheol from speeding his way over. Mingyu watches in trepidation as Hansol strides his way back with the bowl of soup held precariously between his fingers.  
  
"I don't understand why we have these dinners in the first place if there's no need for them," Wonwoo says, dipping his spoon in and out. “If we’re done here, can I go back to my book?”  
  
“No! You all have to stay for my baby Chan’s performance today,” Jeonghan protests, smacking Wonwoo. “He’s worked so hard for this, everyone has to clap and cheer like crazy, even if you think it’s bad. Which it isn’t. Breathe a single negative word and watch all your lands turn to dust.”  
  
Jihoon quietly whoops from behind a bowl.  
  
“Hey, hey Mingyu,” Soonyoung interrupts, almost clamoring on the table and nearly knocking over his soup on Wonwoo’s book. Mingyu is beginning to think about how unsuitably hazardous this appetiser is. “So, what happened inside while we were getting an earful from Seungcheol? Jeonghan keeps being stupidly annoying about it and won’t tell shit.”  
  
Mingyu feels the flutters in his stomach flare up again. “Oh, nothing much,” he stammers, “Just, you know, diplomatic things.”  
  
“He invited Seokmin to stay the night so they can go on a little date around Mingyu’s kingdom tomorrow morning,” Jeonghan blurts, who only shrugs when Mingyu looks at him with exasperation.  
  
Hearing his name, Seokmin recovers himself from laughing at Hansol’s terrible impersonations. “Hmm, what’s up?”  
  
“Are you staying for the night, Seokmin?” Junhui asks, leaning in close to Seokmin.  
  
“...Yeah?” Seokmin answers, backing away.  
  
“What! Mingyu, you’ve never invited me to stay over!”  
  
“That’s because all you’d do is complain about how cold it is,” Wonwoo deadpans, earning him an eyeball from Junhui. Mingyu, meanwhile wants nothing more than for the patch of floor his chair is standing on to spontaneously crack and let him sink into the Earth’s core.  
  
“Yeah, but it’s the thought that counts,” Junhui pouts, sinking into his chair. “I thought we had a strong bond going on here, Mingyu, we worked together to save your precious snow leopards, even though you know I really hate the cold!”  
  
“It’s really not a big deal,” Seokmin explains, waving his hands in front of him, “I’m just staying to have a look at the area and stuff. It’d be a bother if I had to make two trips, right?”  
  
Seokmin looks at Mingyu, all deer in the headlights. His brown eyes really are the loveliest, like drowning in velvet chocolate fondue. They’re so beautiful— he’s so beautiful, and Mingyu can’t help but to fixate himself to this fact, let it bubble pleasantly up his chest and nestle on his tongue.  
  
“You’re really beautiful.”  
  
No sooner had the words left Mingyu’s lips did he want to take them back, not because he felt any more embarrassed to say them, but because it earns him a sharp jab in the ribs by Jisoo.  He rubs at the spot, wincing, questioning Jisoo with his eyes. Guardians may not need to eat or sleep and look like they haven’t aged from the day they become Guardians, but they still feel pain, sometimes more than when they were humans, Mingyu thinks.

Mingyu follows Jisoo’s gaze and watches red blossom Seokmin’s face, his mouth gaping. His feet are about to jump to help seal Seokmin’s lips close, when Jisoo grabs his elbow and mouths _Not now_ , this time eyeing the rest of the Guardians who look like underage teenagers who have sneaked into a club and are giddily marveling at everything.

“Ah yes, yes,” Mingyu clears his throat, straightening his back. "It’s not a big deal at all. Plus, I thought it’d be good if I gave some pointers and stuff, you know since Seokmin is starting out and all.”

“Oh my Nature, Mingyu, you can’t just leave us on the cliff hanging like this,” Soonyoung whines.

Seokmin has his face buried in his hands, shaking his head like he’s wishing the world around him could disappear.  Before Mingyu can say anything, the room plunges into darkness, the only source of light coming from the small platform at the end of the room.

“Good evening Guardians, and welcome, to the event everyone’s been waiting for, the real reason why we’re here in the first place… it’s the Junior Guardian Show!” Seungkwan’s voice booms out, "I’m your host, Boo Seungkwan. We’ve got an incredible line-up of one tonight, consisting of the latest addition to the baby Guardian league. Give it up for Lee Chan!”

Mingyu strains to see in the darkness, but he can just make out Seokmin’s silhouette, no longer hunched down but is now facing the stage. The relief that escapes Mingyu is immeasurable. He hadn’t meant to embarrass Seokmin; though he’d like to say his tongue acted out of its own accord, the truth is, at some point in time he would’ve said those words because Mignyu can’t lie and because Seokmin deserves to be told nothing less than the truth. He just hopes Seokmin doesn’t think him for a creep, nor that the other Guardians tease him too much about it. He has to give it to Seungkwan for his sense and hope Seokmin can relax and enjoy the show too, which he realises too late, he hadn’t been paying particular attention to.  
  
When the song ends, Jeonghan whoops “That’s my baby Chan!” and starts clapping like mad. Everyone follows suit. Mingyu watches Chan's grin grow wider as he waves his friends to join him on stage, dragging with them a bewildered Seokmin who can't help but crack a proud smile for this boy he's only known over the course of one meal. It doesn't feel that way to Mingyu, nor to the boys on stage egging him to sing the next song. When Seokmin opens his lips to let his rich voice reverberate about the room, Mingyu discovers just how much life a single note can hold. It's astounding. His face lights up with every lyric he sings. He’s so beautiful and melts away any lingering irritation Mingyu may have harboured over the course of the day like snow in summer.

The applause is phenomenal when Seokmin finishes his song. No one would leave him alone after that. All the Guardians crowd around him, asking him where he got his voice from (His parents) and why he hadn’t bothered telling anyone (He’s only met them today) or in Jihoon’s case, inviting him to come sand dune singing with him (It depends). Seokmin looks overwhelmed, but delighted. Relieved, even. Seungcheol shouts that they should make a singing and dancing group, all thirteen of them, much to Minghao’s lament, but is quickly shut down by a chorus of _We’re too busy stopping the humans from ruining the planet to be singing and dancing!_

The time soon arrives for everyone to return to their Terrains, far too quickly for anyone’s liking. Minghao and Seokmin help carry the sleeping Junior Guardians back to their respective vehicles while Mingyu prepares snow globes as souvenirs for everyone to take home. Soonyoung and Jihoon refuse to leave, making a protective circle around Seokmin, pulling exaggerated faces and whispering cautionary remarks while suspiciously throwing glances at Mingyu’s direction. Seokmin laughs, whispers something back and leaves the other two Guardians wheezing from laughter, clutching their stomachs.

“Minghao, if you ever betray me for those pesky juniors, I’m firing you,” Mingyu hisses, watching the trio pull off some weird horse-riding move around the ice sculpture version of Shibuya’s Hachiko in the courtyard. Mingyu would’ve never thought he’d see the day Jihoon lasso his arm in the air like a cowboy. Minghao rolls his eyes at Mingyu’s threat, but lets his pouting best friend cling to his arm like a koala anyway.

(Mingyu doesn’t really mind the slander, so long as the sun continues to live vicariously through Seokmin.)

“Thanks for the fun today, Mingyu!” Soonyoung exclaims, blowing a kiss from the Transportation cloud he nicked from Jisoo. “And, Seokmin, if any of these land Guardians are giving you a hard time, just let me or Jisoo know, we’ll fly you away in no time.”

Seokmin waves back until Soonyoung is nothing but a speck of light in the sky. When he joins Mingyu and Minghao back inside, his cheeks are a happy pink colour, eyes sparkling bright.

“You guys are all really close, huh?”

Mingyu and Minghao exchange glances, chuckling.

“We all get along well enough.”  
  
“How long have you all known each other?” Seokmin asks eagerly, wedging himself between the two of them.  
  
Mingyu considers the question. “I guess pretty much ever since I became a Junior Guardian? We were all Junior Guardians together until Seungcheol became a Guardian proper when he was twenty-three. I think it’s why meetings can get really rowdy, we’ll blurt stupid things at each other and eventually forget everything by dinnertime.”  
  
“The fights may be petty,” Minghao interjects, “but they happen so often, you might as well let them nuke each other in a big fight so they can be done and over with and the world will finally know peace.”  
  
They continue walking until they come to a fork. Seokmin chats enthusiastically the whole way, asking questions about the other Guardians and pointing at every painting they pass. It’s as if the entire day has only managed to energise him. Mingyu can’t relate with his incessant yawning.

“Seokmin, I’ll take you to your room,” Minghao says, “Mingyu, you can go ahead and sleep."  
  
“Wait, I have a question. You said earlier that Guardians don’t need sleep, so how come you get tired?”  
  
“Well, what that means is simply that Guardians don’t die if they haven’t slept for like a month, whereas a normal person would,” Mingyu explains, fighting back another yawn. “We still get tired and sleepy, though.”  
  
Seokmin looks even more confused than before he asked the question. Mingyu finds it so adorable, the way his eyebrows scrunch like that.  
  
“Look, we’ll answer everything tomorrow if you’ve still got some burning questions. Unfortunately, I’m still human and would definitely die if I don’t get any sleep.” Minghao says, dragging Seokmin by the arm. “Come on, my room’s next to yours so I’ll take you."  
  
“Thanks so much for today, Mingyu. I’m really looking forward to tomorrow!” Seokmin shouts as Minghao drags him down the hall.  
  
Brain fogged by sleepiness, he waves back lazily, blowing a sloppy kiss like Soonyoung, and humming No Small Wonder as he makes the trek back to his room.   


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for stopping by and reading this! I really hope you've enjoyed it; this is the longest thing I've ever written, and though there a few things I'm still not particularly happy with especially with regards to characters and dynamics, overall I really enjoyed writing this. The second chapter is probably gonna be posted sometime in March/April when I'm less busy. Constructive criticisms are welcome and highly sought, either here or if you want to message me privately on dms @rappercsc. Thank you again!


End file.
